


In the Oil Bath

by WizardSandwich



Series: Transformers Rare Pair Blurbs [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Multi, Oil baths, Polyamory, Tenderness, new relationships, washing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22217857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardSandwich/pseuds/WizardSandwich
Summary: Prowl does not know softness and love and peace.
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet/Prowl
Series: Transformers Rare Pair Blurbs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1251296
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	In the Oil Bath

**Author's Note:**

> one time i told my friend that if i thought about prowl and dratchet at the same time i'd end up shipping them all together and my friend encouraged me and i've been thinking about it ever since so uh
> 
> if you like my stuff, find me at @tasteful-robot-loving on tumblr!

Prowl has not had an oil bath in a long time. The feeling of oil coating his joints and wires is unfamiliar at best and disconcerting at worst. War had never allowed time for such luxuries and peace—no matter how tenuous—had never been his to bask in.

Prowl is a mech built for war and discomfort and hatred. That is the truth he knows. Drift, whose servos dip into the oil to pour it across Prowl’s doorwings, does not believe it to be so. Prowl knows this because he is the one who coaxed Prowl into this.

Drift’s touch is soft and steady as he carefully worships Prowl’s plating. His touch is reverent and intense as Prowl practically melts under his digits.

“You doing okay, Prowl?” Ratchet asks. His voice is gruff but tinged with softness. He watches the two of them with bored optics. Though perhaps bored is not the right word. Unconcerned, perhaps?

“I am fine, Ratchet,” Prowl says back and it sounds strained and unsure in these circumstances. The warm oil almost seemed as if it made his cold exterior hard to keep.

“You can always say no,” Ratchet hums back and he finally stands. He crosses the length of the washracks in a moment, kneeling next to the tub. “This is new for you.”

And it is, of course. Ratchet knows this as well as he knows the feeling of Prowl’s plating under his servos. Prowl and Drift are learning each other like new lovers do.

Prowl insists quietly, “I’m fine. This is fine.”

It is not a lie but his doorwings raise slightly in tension. Drift’s servo runs smoothly across the top in an attempt to be soothing. He says, more a murmur than anything, “Nothing to worry about. It’s just us. Just me.”

To another mech, that might have been relaxing, but Prowl doesn’t trust easily. Everyone on Cybertron knew that.

Then Ratchet’s servo slips under his chin and he presses a kiss to the edge of Prowl’s mouth. His touch is feather light and loose enough that Prowl can pull away if he wants. A rag carefully runs over the back of his doorwings and Prowl’s doorwings lower.

“There we go,” Drift breathes, right next to his audial. He presses a light kiss to the side of Prowl’s helm. It’s just enough for Prowl to relax just a bit.

“That’s a good mech,” Ratchet laughs out, pressing another kiss to Prowl’s jaw.

Part of Prowl hopes the praise keeps coming. He knows the truth, that this is unlikely to last because he is a mech built for war and discomfort and hatred. It runs in his lines, in his circuitry, but if these two can see something _good and worthy_ then—Prowl wants to keep it. He wants to be able to live with peace and comfort and love.

He wants Drift and Ratchet more than he’s ever wanted anything.


End file.
